The flush of morning has but just begun to tinge the sky above Sapun Mountain; the dark blue surface of the sea has already cast aside the shades of night and awaits the first ray to begin a play of merry gleams; cold and mist are wafted from the bay; there is no snow-all is black, but the morning frost pinches the face and crackles underfoot, and the far-off, unceasing roar of the sea, broken now and then by the thunder of the firing in Sevastopol, alone disturbs the calm of the morning. It is dark on board the ships; it has just struck eight bells.
Možete da slušate audio-knjige kupljene na Google Play-u pomoću veb-pregledača na računaru.
E-čitači i drugi uređaji
Da biste čitali na uređajima koje koriste e-mastilo, kao što su Kobo e-čitači, treba da preuzmete fajl i prenesete ga na uređaj. Pratite detaljna uputstva iz centra za pomoć da biste preneli fajlove u podržane e-čitače.